


Some Few Rebelled

by RoseoftheBrightSea



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Third Kinslaying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 02:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseoftheBrightSea/pseuds/RoseoftheBrightSea
Summary: Inspired by the Tolkien quote: " In that battle some of their people stood aside, and some few rebelled and were slain upon the other part aiding Elwing against their own lords"





	Some Few Rebelled

Arcatie was not a good man. He had made peace with that fact. He had followed Fëanor out of anger and ambition, leaving behind his family without so much as a second glance. When Arcatie realized that his dreams of a lordship and power were impossible, he had stayed loyal to Fëanor’s sons out of cowardice. Who else among their kind would tolerate a man such as he?

His loyalty had not gone unnoticed. Maedhros had promoted him to a captain shortly after Dagor Aglareb, and had included Artacie in the planning of later campaigns. Back then, it had been easy to pretend at heroism – to forget his earlier deeds, as if the blood of each orc he slaughtered wiped away the blood of an elf. Yet he had followed his lord to Doriath and cut down dozens of his kinsmen, their terrified pleas failing to stay his blade.

Still, the sight of his commanders aiming their swords at a young woman’s neck snapped something inside of Arcatie. Amras’s blade was tucked under her throat as Maedhros leaned in close, demanding to know Lady Elwing’s location. The woman trembled violently and tears streamed down her face, but she remained silent. Out of bravery or pure terror, Arcatie could not tell.

_She is mortal,_ Arcatie realized in horror.  _If she dies..._

He could hardly finish the thought. If the mortal woman died, she would receive Eru’s Gift, passing beyond the Circles of the World. She would not be reborn. Whatever joy she clung to in these mortal realms would be ripped from her forever. Would she be reunited with her kin? Arcatie did not know, and though the Gift was said to be a blessing, it made his skin crawl and his mouth go dry.

Arcatie’s grip around the hilt of his sword tightened.  No, Arcatie was not a good man. Nor was he an intelligent one.

Barely thinking, he rushed forward and swung his blade, aiming it at Amras’s back. Maedhros spun quickly, his eyes wide with surprise, and parried the blow before it could pierce skin.

****“What are you doing?” he hissed, sword raised in a defensive position.

Amras turned, the woman forgotten. She froze and for a long moment, Arcatie feared she might not take advantage of the distraction. He took a step back and when the Fëanorions advanced, the mortal woman squealed and slipped away. Another soldier moved to block her way.

“Let her pass,” Arcatie barked.

The soldier’s eyes darted between the woman, Maedhros, and Arcatie and his face twisted in confusion. Arcatie repeated himself, more slowly. “Let her go, Silico.”

“Do not,” Maedhros snapped. His face was eerily calm, save for the vicious glint in his eyes. “Put down your sword, Arcatie, and I will forgive this treason.”

Arcatie felt panic rise in his throat.  _I am going to die. He is going to kill me. I will die here, for what? A woman? One of the secondborn?_

“I’m sorry, m’lord,” Arcatie said. “I cannot.”

“Are you  _really_  playing the savior now?” Amras asked, incredulous. He laughed and motioned at the woman. “Do you think she will care? She’s terrified of you!”

Arcatie did not avert his gaze, although he had no doubt Amras was correct.

“I hope to see my mother again one day,” Arcatie whispered. He swallowed hard, then repeated himself, raising his voice. “I hope to see my mother again. And I don’t think I can face her with a mortal’s blood on my hands. One shot. They’ve got one short shot at life. I won’t stand by and let you take that from her.”

Maedhros ordered the other soldiers to advance, but they were slow to act on their request. They were as much Arcatie’s men as Maedhros’s. He had spent centuries earning their trust, training with them, nursing their wounds. Maedhros had done his best, but he was a high lord, and had an entire army to look after, let alone the politics required of his office. Any other squad would have cut him down in an instant. Arcatie took some small comfort in the fact that his at least hesitated.

No, not just hesitate. Arcatie watched with amazement as a few dropped their swords, stepping back from the fight. The elf blocking the mortal woman’s way stood aside, letting her run down the hallway. He dropped his eyes to the floor, refusing to meet his lord’s or captain’s eye. Arcatie gave a silent prayer for the man.

Someone stepped forward. Arcatie expected to be run through, but a small, timid voice spoke up.

“I’m with you, Captain.” It was Isilmo, the youngest of his men. One of the few in Maedhros’s camp to be born in Beleriand. A talented spearman, but a quiet lad, who had spent the aftermath of Doriath emptying his stomach in the forests. His green eyes swam with determination and fear.

A few others followed Isilmo, raising their blades to Maedhros and Amras. Most simply stood aside.

_They’ll die all the same._ Maedhros did not suffer treason lightly and despite the numbers being in their favor, the sons of Fëanor were demons with their blades.  _Perhaps she’ll escape._

Arcatie suspected not. He lunged forward anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
